


Left Behind, Not Forgotten

by Unholy_Author



Series: Zine Works [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emily doesn't get enough love, F/F, Talking about Emily and how she fits in Overwatch's world, What does it feel like to be in love with someone who has such dangerous work?, Who is she away from Lena?, Who's constantly away?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 23:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unholy_Author/pseuds/Unholy_Author
Summary: My Emily-centric piece for the Overlooked Heroes zine. Emily faces loneliness and helplessness in the face of Overwatch's danger, but she finds a way to look toward the light.





	Left Behind, Not Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly Emily really does need more love, why isn't she talked about more?

Thin wisps of steam curled up from the lonely mug on a table that had been well-loved for years. It was a small, round thing made of wood that had probably been much lighter when it was manufactured. Originally made in Ireland, it had passed through several owners before ending up in a flea market in rural England. Two young women had found it there and instantly handed over the twenty dollars it was marked for. It was perfect for a cozy little flat the two of them would share. But right now, it only had one mug of tea on it.

Emily laced her fingers together around the body of the mug, taking in a deep breath of steam that smelled vaguely of the cream she’d poured in. A little longer and it would be cool enough to drink. Emily had a coaster underneath the mug, though the surface of the table already had several rings stained into it and more than a few scratches from careless owners. It was habit, more than anything, that had coasters nearly materialize beneath any glass Emily was using.

Light bells filled the air and Emily blinked before nearly jumping to get her phone from the nearby counter. She looked at the caller id and the tension in her chest loosened into disappointment. Sighing, Emily sat back down at the table as she answered.

“Hello, Mum,” she said with as much cheerfulness as she could manage.

“Emmy, how’ve you been? I’m just on my way out the door to the club, but you haven’t texted me back,” the voice on the other side of the phone replied.

“Fine, fine. How’s Dad?” she asked absently.

“You know how he is, still in the garden,” her mother said with fond exasperation. “How’s Lena?” Emily closed her eyes for a moment, holding back another sigh. She’d been doing a lot of that lately, sighing. 

“Fine,” Emily said.

“What’s wrong?” her mother asked, frown clear in her tone. “Has something happened?”

“No, nothing like that. Just haven’t heard anything in a while. You know how it is.”

“Life in the military, it must be difficult,” she said sympathetically. Emily bit her lip. It wasn’t as though she could simply walk around telling everyone that her girlfriend was working illegally for a disbanded international agency. As far as her family and friends knew, Lena held a vague position in the military and her long disappearances were deployments or training exercises or whatever other convenient excuse Emily could think of. It weighed on her, sometimes, not having anyone she could really discuss it with. But it was a small price to pay to help protect Lena.

“Emmy?”

“Sorry, I’m a thousand miles away,” she said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe you should take a bit off and come visit, hm? Your dad’s always on about not having anyone to go to the farmer’s market with him anymore, he’d love to have you back for a while.”

“Yea, maybe when I get a chance,” Emily said, smiling. That genuinely did appeal to her. Some of her earliest memories were of being on her dad’s knee at his small stand or wandering along seemingly endless aisles with fascination. She’d missed that. In London, everything was much more cramped and grey. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen a proper garden.

“Did you end up going out with Susan to the cinema? It’s not good for you, being alone all the time. I worry about you, you know.” her mother said, thankfully catching onto her need for a change in topic. Unfortunately, this one wasn’t much better.

“Uh, yea, we saw that new romance you told me about,” she said, dutifully ignoring the second part of her inquiry. 

“Oh, good! You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it. I thought the casting seemed a bit-”

“Hey Mum, haven’t you got book club tonight?”

“Yes! I’d better get going, now that you say something. I’ll call you tomorrow and you’ll tell me all about it though, alright?”

“Sure thing, Mum. Love you.”

“I love you, too, darling.” Emily hung up and set the phone aside, rubbing a temple. She took a sip of tea even though it was still slightly too hot. She needed to think about something else. She took the mug to the living room and sat on the couch, switching on the television and settling on a show she’d always loved. It was about planning weddings. The mindlessness of the same steps being taken in different ways and seeing something beautiful come from it was soothing to her. It helped her not think about the movie.

 

It had been a sequel to an older movie, one Hana Song had acted in. When Emily had found out Hana was working with Lena it had been more than a small shock. She seemed so young! She seemed too...well, she supposed it may have been shallow to say Hana seemed too famous for such a thing, but she did. Emily had always had a preconception of her as somewhat fickle because of her fame both for acting and professional video gaming. Lena told her about a time Hana had been seriously injured fighting in Korea with her Meka, and after that Emily hadn’t been able to look at her the same way. She really was so young. She had so much weight on her shoulders. Emily felt more than a small amount of helplessness when she thought about it. She had this information but had absolutely nothing she could do with it. There was nothing she could do to help.

The movie Emily had watched with Susan already had Emily thinking about Hana, about Overwatch, because she was thinking about the movie it was following. Then there was a scene that put one of the main characters in the hospital. Emily had excused herself to the toilets and cried in a stall. She hadn’t heard from Lena in a week and a half at that point. All she could think of was Lena, hurt in some far away hospital where Emily would never even know what was wrong.

 

That had been three days ago.

 

On the television, a woman cried as she finally found her dream dress. Emily took another sip of tea, and suddenly it seemed more bitter than before. It was a beautiful dress. Emily would have chosen something with less lace. Not that she was already looking at wedding planning, not that she had a file on her laptop she slowly filled with any interesting ideas she found online. She kept her small dreams very secret. It seemed silly whenever she thought about it. Having a folder of wedding clippings and cute ideas seemed so childish. It seemed like something she shouldn’t be focusing on, considering the actual serious matters that Lena had to think about on a daily basis. That being said, Emily could never bring herself to delete it.

Emily dragged a finger around the lip of the mug she held. There was a small drop of milky tea lazily rolling its way down the side from her last sip and she watched for a moment as it began neatly bisecting the large cartoon heart on the side. Emily swiped it up with her thumb and licked it clean.

She didn’t have anything to do that day and ended up curled up on the couch watching the show marathon with her empty mug on the coffee table. She must have dozed off, because she shut her eyes for a moment longer than usual and they opened again to a different episode. She frowned softly, confused, but then the reason she’d woken again clicked in her mind as she registered the sound of her phone. She groaned and stretched her back before getting up and wandering over to the table to get it. She didn’t even glance at the id before answering.

“Hello?”

“Ah! Hello!” came the slightly awkward but enthusiastic reply. Emily’s mind instantly cleared from her impromptu nap.

“Winston!”

“Yes, that’s me!” he laughed. “Uh, do you have a moment?” Emily sat heavily into one of the chairs, eyes wide as a cold dread settled into her chest.

“Is she okay?”

“What? Yes! Of course she is. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh thank you,” she breathed with relief. “Is everything okay, then? Do you need something?” There had been one memorable call where they’d needed her to deliver extremely important information that Lena had left buried under crumbs on the kitchen counter. Somehow, she doubted this would be anything like that.

“I just wanted to let you know she’s okay.” Emily frowned slightly, fingers of her free hand unconsciously drumming against the top of the table.

“I appreciate it, but you’ve never done that before.” There was a long moment of silence that Emily felt no inclination to break.

“It might be a while until you can hear from her. You know how it is, this sort of thing happens sometimes, and-” The rest of what he said was lost. Emily held her face with her hand and nodded.

“I understand,” she said, cutting him off. “Thank you for telling me. Do you have...an estimate of when she can call?” she asked with only a small amount of hope. She wasn’t expecting much, but it was always worth it to ask.

“I’m sorry….”

“It’s not your fault. Nature of the job, right?” The job she couldn’t talk to any of her friends about, but also couldn’t talk about with any of Lena’s coworkers because she couldn’t know as much as them. She was suspended in her own state between two worlds, and sometimes it felt like she was standing with one foot on either side of a quickly widening crevice but she didn’t have the conviction to pick one over the other.

“Nature of the job,” Winston repeated. “I really am sorry.”

“Thank you.” There was a long moment of silence. Emily absently rubbed at a scratch in the table that was old enough to have rounded edges.

“Uh, how have you been?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Emily said with a small smile. “I know you’re busy.” There was clear relief in his voice when he replied, though he’d never say anything aloud.

“Thank you. I’ll talk to you when I have an update for you.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said before hanging up. 

For several long moments, Emily just sat there and stared blankly. The flat was so quiet. Even with the sound of a man negotiating flower arrangements in the background, Emily was hyper aware of the fact that she was the only person there. The entire place had been made with two people in mind but it seemed much more common for there only to be one there. Emily suddenly wondered when the last time was that she’d had a friend over.

 

Emily gave up on hearing anything soon after a few days passed. She went to work, she went home, sometimes she ordered delivery. But that was her life. Back and forth and back and forth. Suspended. She didn’t have a place that she felt she belonged, and it was wearing her down. She called her mother a few times, even went out with some friends for lunch one day. But it felt...hollow. Like a gesture made because it was expected of her, rather than something that she really wanted. Her mother spoke of her book club often and with great enthusiasm, and Emily thought of her father and his garden. 

Four weeks alone in the apartment had Emily looking up local gardening groups. Passively, at first, just glancing over social media pages and people talking about what kind of work they’d done that week. Then she saw a picture of the community garden that one of the clubs used. It was gorgeous. Carefully partitioned plots and sections labeled with small signs in the ground proudly announcing which plant it guarded. In the middle, there was a clear space and a picnic table with too many people sitting at it, some on the ground next to the benches, all laughing and clearly enjoying being together. Together. 

There was a small entrance fee, of course, and Emily would need to bring her own tools. She didn’t mind that. She called her dad and had him send her the tools he’d bought her in high school, a set of purple and green patterned tools that had been well-loved and faded slightly by days left in the sun. He’d been so excited to hear she was getting into it again. When the box came, she just held them in her hands for a moment. The soft rubber grips fit her hands perfectly, the few worn-down spots perfectly molded to her hands. It felt...it felt good.

It was more than a little bit uncomfortable for Emily when she went to her first meeting. They were on Saturdays at noon, and she’d been told most people brought lunch or something to share. She held a tote of her tools in one hand and a small lunchbox in the other as she approached the waist-high gate that cradled the garden between two short stone buildings. She felt like a child on her first day of school, meeting all new people and trying to fit in.

“You must be Emily!” a man with a big belly and a bigger smile called. Emily was slightly startled by his enthusiasm, but offered a small smile.

“That’s me.”

“Good! I’m Bobby. We’ve got a plot for you right next to Jaquelyn. She’s pretty good at explaining things, so if you need any help you just ask her. Oh! Did you bring lunch?” he asked as he ushered Emily in, walking her past several people who all waved happily at the pair.

“Um, yes. I’ve been emailing Mrs. Mason? She said most people do.”

“That’s Jaquelyn,” he said with a wink. “I was just asking because most people tend to forget the first few times, so I brought along extra in case you were hungry after.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” she said, slowly relaxing the more she was with him. He went around introducing her to people whose names she knew she would need to be told again and helped her get started in her plot, which had been abandoned by someone who moved and left the club.

It was much more fun than Emily had been anticipating. She’d been afraid they would all be horribly pompous or competitive about it, but everyone she met was incredibly kind and sweet. Jaquelyn told a joke about her wife when they were working in close sections of their plots, and Emily relaxed even more.

Emily went to the meetings every Saturday, visiting her plot to work on it during the week whenever she had time for it. Once, when she was very stressed, she went out at nearly eleven at night to kneel in the dirt and weed out her beds. Her hands had felt frozen to the bone when she’d finished, but she was more relaxed than she would have been if she’d gone home and just watched television.

The phone going off was no longer a chest-tightening experience. More often than not it was someone asking when Emily got off of work to hang out or meet at the garden. Once, it turned into a trip to the grocery where they just walked together and laughed as they argued over which brand of paper towel was best. The next time she’d gone shopping and walked down the toiletry aisle, she’d laughed to herself when she passed them. She was sure anyone who was watching would have thought she was absolutely mental, but she honestly didn’t mind. She was having too much fun to care what anyone else thought of it. 

She called her parents more. The calls no longer revolved around Emily’s wellbeing and the worry they had for her. One call had just been forty minutes of Emily and her father talking about the best way to grow mint without it spreading over the whole plot. She’d occasionally burst into laughter whenever she was alone over the next few days thinking about the way her father solemnly and with great seriousness recommended a blowtorch to keep the plant in line. It was advice she shared with all of her gardening friends, prompting several of them to demand she tell her father that they agreed with him.

A few months after Emily had joined the club, a meeting got rained out—the downpour too much to work in even for the dedicated bunch. Emily had shyly offered up her flat as a place to have lunch together instead and was pleasantly surprised when everyone had instantly agreed. Emily didn’t have to prepare a single thing. Everyone brought something needed and all Emily had to do was provide mugs. Her small table was hardly enough for everyone, and they ended up in her living room laughing together and teasing about who would have the largest squash that year. Emily found herself wishing Lena was there. But then she blinked. She missed Lena, but the thought didn’t make her lonely. It didn’t bring with it the ache in her chest that she’d come to associate with it. She still missed Lena, but she didn’t feel alone anymore.


End file.
